O, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day!
William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), "The Two Gentlemen of Verona", Act 1 scene 3
Erestor looked as if someone had just burned the whole of Imladris to the ground. It seemed the Valar had quite a sense of humor and they were currently directing it towards the too tense Chief Advisor of Imladris. The morning of the arrivals of the guests for the Spring festival had dawned….with snow. That, however, was not the reason Erestor looked as if he was about to die. No, no, that look did not come onto his face until a misdirected snowball, thrown by one daughter of Elrond landed on a very royal target, one youngest son of King Thranduil.
The valley had gone silent.
One could not tell if Thranduil was enraged, shocked, or full of laughter. Legolas, said son of the King, was actually laughing, a joyous sound to all. His mother also had a lovely smile on her face, with no attempt at hiding it. Arwen, said daughter of Elrond was also smiling, knowing that since she was the youngest child of Elrond, and not yet at her majority, and the granddaughter of Galadriel, it was unlikely she would get into any trouble. The adopted children of Elrond, and his two sons, had escaped the scene seeing as how bursting out into tears of mirth and rolling around in the snow was not the sort of dignified behavior members of a great household participated in. Oddly enough, Lords Glorfindel and Celeborn and the Lady Celebrian had also disappeared for the exact same reason.
Dinner time
Elrohir looked as if he was about to throw his dinner plate at the youngest son of Thranduil. Nithiel and Legolas, both renown for their beautiful voices, were in a deep conversation about their favorite tunes and tales. Morwen rolled her eyes at the younger twin, really, he had nothing to worry about, Legolas was still very young. His eldest brother had been left in the Greenwood to test his ability to rule; Legolas was only allowed to come to Imladris because he was still at least 20 years off his majority. Nithiel may have been a tad eccentric but Morwen highly doubted she was romantically inclined towards Thranduil's Greenleaf. Really, Elrohir had issues with jealousy.
Morwen leaned over to Elladan and whispered in his ear, "Do something about your brother before the main course ends up on the head of the young prince."
"Do you have any bright ideas?"
"Ask Glorfindel to tell the story when he convinced the laundress Elrond wanted all of his clothing washed, including the robes he had set out for the day."
"Ah, yes, that tale. Glorfindel does delight in telling that when great guests are present. However, I have no desire to do stable duty with him for the next two months. You ask him."
"Do you honestly want your next cape made by my hands? You know I will be sent to the sewing room if I ask."
"Then what do you suggest we do?"
"Sit here and whisper to each other quietly while throwing looks his way."
"Ahh…the paranoia technique. We haven't used this art of annoyance in so long, when did we last do such a thing?"
"Last week, with Lindir I believe."
"Yes, yes, that was fun. It really has been too long."
"It has."
"Ready?" Elladan asked his partner in crime.
"Already there."
Elrohir kept glancing across the table. Morwen and Elladan were deeply conversing while occasionally glancing at him. This was never a good sign. Last time they did such a thing Elrohir ended up locked in a wine cellar. Truly it wasn't their fault but they had worried him to the point of distraction. Those two were truly evil. Why father did not just keep them on separate ends of the table he did not know. Actually, he did. The last time they were on separate sides of the table and Morwen near the end of the table, Elladan had spent the whole dinner yelling down to her. Father had found it humorous, mother had not. Elrohir checked his clothing; everything was in order. His hands felt his braids and face; everything was fine. He shook off his paranoia and lent towards the soup dish, until Glorfindel slightly tilted his chair back. The movement off set Elrohir's balance and the younger twin took a somewhat tumble into the closest soup dish. Most of the high-browed dignitaries spent the rest of the dinner trying to hide their amusement at the soup-covered son of Elrond.
The Next Day
The day of the Spring Festival had finally arrived and surprisingly Erestor had not managed to kill anybody, although Elladan's ears were still ringing from the very long and loud lecture he received about trying to corrupt the more younger and innocent members of the household, namely Tarkil. Then he received another one on how a proper son of Elrond should act in front of such great dignitaries and then there was the last lecture on why he needed to stop distracting Rian and Morwen from their work. Honestly Erestor needed to loosen up. It was just a festival; Elladan did not understand why he was being so obsessed about every little detail.
Elladan stood on a balcony, surveying the crowd below, watching all those that had gathered for the contests and the displays. The Spring festival always seemed the most happiest in all cultures, elves especially. The re-birth of nature rejuvenated the spirits of all. With the coming of spring Elladan had made a promise to himself: to shed the autumn vows of his youth and to look to the spring of his future. He had decided, once and for all, Aerlinn was not meant for him. She was certainly interested in Galdor, an elf that knew her family well. She had spent more time in his presence in the past few weeks then she had ever managed to spend within Elladan's for the past few centuries. The folly of youth, as they say, leads one to knowledge as an adult. No matter how difficult that knowledge is to come by.
"The fact that you are not fading from heartbreak should tell you something."
Elladan visibly jumped as Rian's warm voice interrupted his thoughts. He always noted how everything about Rian seemed like fire: her hair, her voice, her eyes, her temperament. It made one wonder how burned you would be for daring to touch her flames. Elladan knew, had known, for some time that Rian desired his brother. He also knew the feeling was not reciprocated. Truly seemed to be a theme in this household. One does not come to the Last Homely House to find a content love life. One comes to Imladris to catch up on the latest elven gossip, this was true, but to see the over-romanticized love of the elves, love to last forever, Imladris was not your destination. LothLorien was. Truly he wondered how grandfather and grandmother put up with each other for so long, but then that was love. Someone to have long boring conversations with. No, wait, that was friendship. But, wait..
"Rian, would you say love is having long boring conversations with somebody and enjoying it?"
Rian, a redish-gold eyebrow raised at the arbitrary question, just smiled at Elladan, "It is love of a certain kind yes, the aspect of friendship we find in others. But the love, as we are told to experience it, is full of more passion, more fire."
Elladan thought about this for a second and decided he did agree.
"Yes, fire is the right analogy. Pain and beauty all in one. Warmth and destruction. The ever-burning flame, not just of life, but of the world."
"Is your philosophical moment over yet? Your father has asked for you to stop spying on everyone and to come down to the games. Something about keeping up appearances."
"Morwen is not down there."
"She is in a meeting with an advisor from the Greenwood, as is Erestor."
"Thalion.."
"Is training; the game he will participate in is coming up later."
"Nithiel.."
"Is with the main minstrels of LothLorien and Greenwood the Great. Lindir is with them as well. Your brother is down there, hidden in the shadows I believe. Dear prince Legolas is sitting with his parents. Aerlinn is with the Havens crowd. Tarkil is talking with the visiting Gondorians; Rodwen is chasing after a Galadhrim guard, and I am here. You have run out of excuses."
"ARWEN! Arwen is not down there."
"Arwen is in the tree right outside your window making mocking faces of you."
Elladan turned and sure enough, there was his sister, sitting in the tree, face full of mirth. And Glorfindel was at the bottom of the tree, begging for her to come back down as Elrond was heading over.
Elladan gave a disgruntled sigh and followed Rian out of the room. He truly hated being the eldest son. He was the child most responsible for keeping up appearances.
Morwen had never been so very bored in her life. If it was not for Arwen sitting in the trees mocking someone, most likely Elladan as that was the nearest bedroom, she would have fallen asleep hours ago. A glance over to Erestor showed he had already semi-dozed off. While Morwen agreed that the quality of the syrup produced by trees was an important thing, she did not understand why it needed to be discussed today. She cast a longing glance outside, where the merrymaking of many elves and men could be heard. The games had been going on for sometime, she had wondered who had won. Funny, she never liked those games unless she was not able to attend them. Normally there would be no meetings on holidays such as this, but the Greenwood elves would not be visiting for long and therefore every moment had to be utilized. Rian and Morwen had flipped a coin for who got the "honor" to attend this enlightening meeting. Morwen had lost and therefore she was here.
Funny, so many desired to become counselors, if they only knew what the job truly entailed. Morwen kept sending prayers to the Valar for something to interrupt this meeting. Rainstorms, orcs, a sudden birthing, a rampaging horse, anything. There had to be some way to get out of this. Morwen looked back at Arwen and noticed someone was yelling up at her to come down. She titled her head slightly and saw Glorfindel there, Elrond slowly coming towards him. Suddenly, inspiration struck.
"My dear counselors, if you will excuse me, it seems that Lady Arwen is in need of some aid. I must hasten towards her. Please, continue, I will try to join you as soon as possible."
Erestor mouthed the word, "traitor" at her, but did nothing to stop her exit.
Faeleth stopped short at the sight of Morwen walking towards the fields. Hopefully Erestor was finally out of that meeting. Was the syrup trade really that important? And in spring of all times. She stopped the young elf,
"Morwen, has the meeting ended?"
Faeleth smiled at the slight blush on Morwen's cheeks.
"No, I am afraid it did not. However, I saw an opportunity to make an exit and I grabbed it."
"And what opportunity might that be?"
Morwen pointed towards one of the larger trees. One in which Arwen was sitting, laughing as her elder brother teased her from the balcony while Glorfindel and Elrond stood below loudly whispering for Arwen to come down before she caused a scene. Faeleth laughed and shook her head. There was a reason why Morwen was training to be an advisor, and that was her ability to..ahem..bullshit the severity of a small matter. Morwen smiled at Faeleth's laugh and then said,
"I suggest you find an excuse for Erestor to escape that meeting. I would suggest ranting and tears for that would drive our Woodland ambassadors far away."
"That, in fact, sounds like a very good plan."
Morwen gave a smirk, "I will do my best to assure you will not be disturbed."
"For one raised by the great Lord Elrond, you have quite a wicked mind."
"I would blame it on his sons and my tutors. Good day."
"Good day, Morwen."
Faeleth walked quickly to Erestor's study, took a deep breath, willed tears, and then stormed into the office.
Glorfindel's neck was starting to ache from holding it at such an angle for such a long time. The novelty of teasing Elladan had quickly worn off. Arwen was refusing to come down, for no reason other than to further annoy her already perturbed father. Glorfindel of course would get all the blame for this. Whenever the younger elves became mischievous it was Glorfindel's fault. Really, he had only assisted them when they asked nicely. Who was he to turn down smiling elflings, a cruel heart could only do such a thing. He jumped at the warm hand that touched his shoulder. He lowered his head to make eye-contact with Morwen.
"Having trouble with the Evenstar, my lords?"
"Yes, she is truly being a Nightingale and sticking to the trees." Elrond mumbled. "My great, wise seneschal here, entrusted with the authority to teach the younger elves of Imladris courage, wisdom, and honor is apparently not able to get my daughter down from the tree."
"He is a few thousand years old, Elrond, and re-born none-the-less, you must forgive him for his senility."
"I am standing right here." Glorfindel announced.
"I am quite aware." Morwen remarked, then tilting her head upwards, "Arwen, come down or you will miss the dances!"
"Are they on yet?"
"No, but they will be soon and you want to get a prime spot."
"Alright, Elladan is leaving his room anyway."
In two blinks of an eye, the young maiden was down the tree and hugging her father's side. Such a daddy's girl. The tranquility of the moment was interrupted by the very loud yelling coming from dear Erestor's study.
"What is that?" Glorfindel asked.
Morwen smiled, "A diversion and an escape."
Elrond shared a secret smile with Morwen, guessing what was occurring,
"Well then, I suggest we all head back towards the main grounds before anyone notes our absence."
"Sounds wonderful, my lord." Glorfindel remarked, lightly tapping the top of Arwen's head as he walked by. Arwen took her arms from her father's waist and then started to chase Glorfindel down to the main grounds, much laughter resulting from their game.
Elrond just shook his head and walked besides Morwen,
"Tell me, how do the syrup prospects look?"
"Apparently we hide our secrets and Lady Galadriel is using some sort of enchantment to make her syrup sweeter. I did not bother to inform the dear elf that we import our syrup from LothLorien. That would have started the discussion on how we are trying to align ourselves with one and not the other. There was no talk of the syrup of the Havens nor the kind the Traveling Company uses. Where is Gildor, by the way?"
"Gildor and his people arrived later this morning. They are now sitting with the other Houses." Elrond stopped as he watched Glorfindel let Arwen tackle him, surely staining his lovely outfit.
"He really will be a great father one day."
"He does not ever see that day coming. He has told me so."
Elrond looked at Morwen, deeply into her eyes, "That will one day change; keep hope, my young one. For one day, all we will have is hope."
A/N: Just a chapter on a lovely day in Imladris, a little break from our regular soap opera. I would like to say this will be updated next Sunday, but I really have to write another "Grace" chapter and the poor "Enigma" readers, if there are still any out there, have been waiting for over a month. We'll just have to see what happens, inspiration may strike.
To all those I haven't thanked by e-mail:
SingerAngel: I'm glad you like it, hopefully you'll like this chapter.
And to all the others that read and yet don't review:
thank you very much, just knowing that someone is reading it makes me smile.
And to my special two, my motivators:
Jouri: Thank you for being my little tester.
Dimi: Thank you for laughing even though you don't understand a thing.